


Collected Drabbles

by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:58:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3922033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpiontales/pseuds/Goodluckdetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cleaned up and collected Tumblr Drabbles</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mulletwing: The Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter:  
> Inspired by incogneat-oh:  
> ⚡ “Dick I swear to God, if Damian ever grows a mullet I am exacting my revenge in blood.”

The mullet had a reputation.

            Actually, the mullet had more than a reputation. It had grown into its own being, a phantom figure that everyone tried not to talk about.  It could be a member of the Gotham’s worst criminals with the gossip that has gone around the manor. For those who were unfortunate enough to experience it, the legacy of Dick Grayson’s long lived mullet lived on in their traumatized memories.

            “Oh dear god,” Jason  said as he flips to another page in the photo album. Dick is in his police officer’s uniform, the dreaded haircut perched onto of his head. “It’s hideous.”

            “It wasn’t that bad.” Dick snatched the album from his younger brother, curling around the picture protectively. “I was just having a rough couple of years.”

Tim peered over his shoulder and shuddered at the picture. “I don’t know if a few bad years could explain that haircut. It looks like it is trying to eat your face.”

            “Or turn you into Cousin It,” Jason chimes in, pulling the book back and flipping another page. “You’re lucky Tim’s big brother worship didn’t extend to your taste in fashion or Robin would have been cursed with the name “The Mullet Wonder.”

            Tim glanced over at a picture of him in his Robin days, pictured the hairstyle, and immediately turned the picture face down.

            “Babs liked it,” Dick said, staring up at the ceiling.

            “I humored you.” Barbara’s voice echoed from the kitchen. Dick grinded his teeth together, sighing.

            “It wasn’t one of your better hair style choices, Dick.” Bruce said from across the room, still reading his newspaper. Damian, who had been sitting next to him, strode over to the chair and yanked the photo album for himself.

            “I shall be the judge of how Grayson disgraced the family.” He looked down at the photo for a long moment, pursing his lips. At last, he looked back up at his family. “I do not think it looks that offending.”

            The room gaped at the youngest Robin. Dick began to speak, his face already in an “I told you so expression.”

            “I swear to god Dick, if Damian grows a mullet I’m enacting my revenge in blood.”

            There was a beat of silence. Dick’s face fell. Stephanie, who had been watching the conversation from her perch on the stairs, fell over laughing, clutching her stomach.  The laughter spread and soon everyone was giggling except for Dick and Damian.

            “I get no respect around here,” Dick muttered. Damian stared at everyone.

            “I am serious. What is wrong with it?”


	2. Bro Hugs are Serious Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Dick bond. Poorly.

                  Jason didn’t know a lot about his older brother, not really, but he knew one thing; the man had been trying to capture him in a hug for the last two days.

                  Jason had been evading him the best he could (which was a respectable achievement when it came to dealing with former-boy-wonders). Every hug was met with a well timed duck, a side step, and, once when he was particularly desperate, a handshake. But Dick was on his tail, and he knew he could run forever.

                  So when he woke up from his nap to find Dick sitting across from him, arms crossed, he knew his time had run short.

                  “Okay,” Dick said. “What did I do?”

                  “Wha-” Jason was not awake enough for this conversation. He rubbed at his eyes.

                  “What did I do?” Dick leaned in, his long hair draping over his shoulders. He looked ridiculous with that flowing mane; Jason had no clue how he managed to scare criminals with the thing. “What’s up with the avoidance? You ignored the welcoming hug I tried to give you, and ever since then, it’s like my touch is the plague. So what did I do?”

                  Jason groaned. “It’s nothing, Dick. You did nothing.” He glanced at Dick’s face and had to fight back another groan. The guy looked really hurt. Like “Bruce won’t talk to me” hurt. That was not in the cards when he started this campaign. 

                  “Jay…”

                  “I’m too old for hugs, okay!” Jason said it all in a rush; it was a miracle Dick could make out a single word, let alone the whole sentence.

                  Not that got Dick’s attention. The elder man titled his head, his eyes widening somewhat. “What?”

Jason sighed, sitting up on the couch. His shoulders slumped. “I’m too old for hugs, okay? I’m 13 now; I got to start acting manly. Tough.”

                  “You wear green panties-” Dick cut off at the glare Jason was giving him; the kid had been picking up tips from Bruce alright. “Jay,” he tried again. “Hugs don’t mean you’re not tough; they mean you care. You’re never too old for hugs.”

                  “Bruce is." 

                  "Bruce is emotionally repressed,” Dick said without missing a beat. Jason didn’t seem to buy it, sinking into the sofa cushions. Dick gritted his teeth, before rubbing his hand across his face. “Okay, what about this; I can teach you how to give manly hugs.”

                  Jason raised an eyebrow. “Manly hugs?”

                  “Yeah manly hugs.” Dick held out his hand. “Okay first you grab my hand.” He wiggled his fingers for Jason to get the point. After a long suffering sigh, Jason did what he was told, sitting up straight on the couch.

                  “Next you pull the other guy in while making a grunting noise so everyone knows you’re super manly,” he said while doing the action. “And then you wrap your arm around the other guys back.” They sat like that for a few seconds, before Jason spoke.

                  “This doesn’t feel very manly.”

                  “Trust me; it is.” He let Jason go and the younger brother went back to lying on the couch. “So there you go; no more excuses for avoiding hugs, okay?”  
                  “I guess.”

                  A day later, when Jason attempted to try out the new hug form on Alfred, it took all of Dick’s willpower to not fall over laughing.


	3. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2AM?"  
> Damian and Dick have a conversation.

            “Why exactly do you need chloroform at 2Am?”

            Damian froze right where he was standing. Titus, who was right next to him, froze as well, his tail shooting high into the air. The kid’s hands were buried in the trunk were they kept the stuff. Slowly, like it pained them, both boy and dog turned towards the man who caught them. 

            Dick tapped his foot against the floor, trying to echo the “strict father” model he’d seen so often on television. Combined with the crossed arms and upright posture, he had the image down pat. It was a lot more fun then he thought it would be, almost fun enough to curb his anger from finding Damian messing around in the cave again. The kid was grounded, seriously grounded. And that meant after school activities too. Damian’s gaze was firmly fixed on his shoes. Titus was staring at them too, though he probably just wanted to chew on them a bit.

            “Well?” Dick asked. It sounded a little like Bruce which was…concerning. He’d have to ask Babs if he sounded like that all the time when he was irate. He hoped not. “Planning to sneak attack Tim again?”

            “No.” 

            Well that took out the likely candidate. “Mess with Jason?”

            “No.”

            That was unexpected. Dick took a step forward. “The stuff won’t work on Cass, just so you know. She’s immune.” Which was a shocker to find out, by the way. 

            “I wasn’t trying to drug, Cain,” Damian hissed, bite returning to his voice. Which made Dick realize that the bite was missing in the first place. Dick dropped the stern Dad pose and walked over to Damian. He knelt down in front of his younger brother and placed his hand on his shoulder. Damian didn’t even bother to shrug it off. 

            “Okay, I give. What’s up?”

            Damian shifted from one foot to another. It was such a little kid thing. Seeing Damian act his age was concerning. Titus whined nice and low. The dog nudged Damian’s knee with his nose. The boy reached down to give him a nice pat on the head and sighed.

            “I couldn’t sleep. Nightmares.”

            Dick felt his stomach sink. Oh, Damian. With all he’d be through in the last year, it was no wonder. Chloroforming himself. What a Damian solution.          A solution no 10 year old should have ever come up with. 

            Dick took his hand off Damian’s shoulder and scratched under Titus’ ears. “Well,” he said, taking his time on each word. “I don’t think we have to get that desperate yet. You still haven’t tried my trick from my Robin days.”

            “Was it getting yourself constantly knocked out from your incompetence?” The bite was still missing, but the attempt was enough to make Dick smile.

            “Nah,” A glint appeared in Dick’s eye. “Have I ever introduced you to Rocket Man?”

            Damian would fall asleep in front of the television an hour later.


	4. Take it From the Top

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High School AU: Tim joins the Glee Club known as the Titans. And when I say join...

Jason Todd, resident school ditcher, drifter and occasional theater student walked into the auditorium, dragging some kid by the shirt collar and practically threw him onto the stage. The kid let out a yelp, flailing his arms and Jason turned around, arms crossed, smile smug.

            It reminded Conner Kent of a cat who had just brought home a dead bird. All the pride, none of the actual accomplishment.

            “Glee club, or the Titans I guess, I have brought you your replacement for whoever you lost last year,” Jason said, pointing to the kid on stage who had staggered onto his feet. “I accept thanks in the form of candy, nutella sandwiches or Donna Troy’s cell phone number.”

            There was a pause before the director, Mr. Smith, though his students called him Tornado, stood up. He lifted up his pen, looking at the kid on the stage.

            “Who is this?”

            The kid tried to make a run for it but Jason caught him my his ankle stopping him before he could even get a foot away. He smiled, leaning back against the stage.

            “Don’t you see the family resemblance? This is my brother, Tim who has wanted to try out for this damn club since he was seven. Tim, these are the nerds who better treat you with respect before fists start flying.”

            The kid on the stage finally said something. From what Conner could tell it was “I hate you so much.”

            “Is this true, Tim?” Smith asked, looking at the kid with laser like focus. Tim coughed, turning bright red.

            “Uh, yeah, he’s my brother.” Jason rolled his eyes.

            “The man meant about trying out for this damn thing. Right teach?” Smith nodded. Tim shut his eyes, cursing under his breath. Conner watched as Jason jumped onto the stage next to him and nudged him in the side. And while he knew that it wasn’t exactly right, he craned forward to hear the boys conversation.

            “This is stupid.”

            “You’re being stupid. Tim, just because Dick and I are in sports doesn’t mean you have to freakin’ do exactly what we did. Bruce didn’t adopt you so you could win a lame high school trophy.”

            “He’s going to be disappointed.”

            “No, he’s going to be disappointed when he learns that I got a detention for throwing Croc in the dumpster again.”

            “ _Jason!_ ” The hiss echoed through the room. The boys took no notice.

            “He deserved it. Anyway, Bruce isn’t going to be disappointed. Maybe emotionally stunted with pride, but not disappointed. And if he even thought about getting on your case, I would have pointed out that his eldest is practically a stripper for the gymnastics team and he’s shut up fast.”

The younger boy sighed. “Dick has got to stop doing that pole vault thing.”

            Dick…oh that rang a bell. Everyone in the school knew who Dick Grayson was. Star gymnastic, president of class board, general awesome guy. No wonder the kid felt pressured.

            “If you’re going to sing, you have to do it now,” Tornado said, looking at his watch. Jason nudged his brother in the side before jumping off the stage.       Tim shuffled his feet, took a deep breath and began to sing. And damn could that kid sing.

_“I can’t compete, with clear eyes of strangers,”_

_“I’m more and more replaced by my friends each night”_

_“I can’t compete, just can’t recover”_

            Tim finished through the first chorus before stopping and taking a little nervous bow. The Titans all stared at the boy on stage with wide eyes. Jason began to clap. Tim rubbed at his arm, turning redder by the second.

            “How’d I do?”

            Conner took a good long look at his fellow teammates. The kid was good, that was no question. It was really a simple choice. He turned to Cassie.

            “Cassie, any chance you have Donna Troy’s phone number?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The song is “The Heart is Hard to Find” by Jimmy Eat World. It is such a every Robin to ever exist song. Listen to it.)


	5. Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Who wouldn’t be angry you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!” Tim and Dick, New 52! with Agent 37 ;D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Batman 40!

“Who wouldn’t be angry! You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

            Dick had to admit. Tim had a point.

            Three years was a long time to fake a death. Dick knew that. Hell, he lived it. He’d sat on the other side of the country, month after month, year after year, trying to take Spyral down from the inside out. He’d been there when Damian came back from the dead, when Bruce died, when Bruce came back, and when Jason went to college. He’d been there when Bruce adopted Cass, when Damian took upon the mantel of Nightwing, when Duke became Robin in his younger brother’s place. He’d been there for a lot of things.

            Few had been willing to forgive him, when he came back. Less were willing to forgive Bruce. But only one of his siblings was outright avoiding him all together. 

            Tim had always been the special one.

            “I can’t believe it!” Dick watched as his brother paced around in his apartment. Breaking in took half an hour. Waiting for Tim to come back had take four. In retrospect, pouring himself a bowl of cereal may have not been his best move. “You listened to his stupid plan! You! You who always told me that  _Bruce isn’t always right_  and  _listen to your own judgment_  and ugh!”  Tim’s Dick impression had not improved while Dick was gone.

            “Tim-”His young brother spun around and walked over to Dick, poking him hard in the chest. If Dick had been holding his cereal bowl he would have dropped it. 

            “Don’t Tim me! You were dead! I was here! You got to run across Europe playing James Bond while I spent each of your birthdays reading in front of your grave! Do you know how fucked up that is! Do you have any idea how I felt-” Tim cut off, grinding his teeth together. Tim’s temper usually was well restrained except when he was put under severe pressure. It was what made him a good hero. It was what told Dick how upset Tim really was.

            Dick reached forward, placing his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Before Tim could slap it away, he pulled him into a hug. Tim squirmed against the embrace, but Dick held on tight. He placed his chin on top of Tim’s head. The kid hadn’t grown much. He was still on the pop, coffee and toast diet. 

            “I know. It’s fucked up. I’m sorry.”

            Tim was still in his arms. His hands hung loosely at his side. “That doesn’t fix it, Grayson.”

            Dick closed his eyes. Grayson. Tim was aiming below the belt. Not that Dick didn’t deserve it. He pictured him and Tim sitting on a couch before he “died” watching movies and gossiping. Being brothers. It didn’t seem like a viable future.

            He’d try anyway. 

            “I know, Timbo. I know.”

            They stood there for ten minutes not moving at all. Tim never hugged Dick back.


	6. Parenting is Hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The skirt is short on purpose

Cassandra loved her parents, she really did. Barbara was a rock on whom she could always rely and talk to. Bruce always had her back and would always be there if she found herself in trouble. They were something she had never even fathomed back when she lived with David Cain or on the streets. She’d forever be grateful. 

            That being said, being the child of two of the most protective people in the world was a bit annoying at times.

            “You’re wearing that?” Bruce and Barbara  were right in front of her, Bruce standing, Barbara in her chair. How they found out that she was going out was anyone’s guess. Cassandra played with her earrings, a pair of large hoops she’d borrowed from Stephanie. 

            “The short skirt is on purpose,” Cass said, proud that she didn’t struggle getting the words out in the slightest. Her lessons with Stephanie had been helping more than she realized. The sentence only managed to have its intended effect on Bruce who sputtered. Mentioning sex in front of your Dad was a universal way to trip them up, even for Batman. Barbara didn’t seem moved, not reacting at all.

            “The skirt is fine-  
  
            “Actually…” Barbara held up her hand, cutting Bruce off.

            “She’s 20. The skirt is fine. But that shirt? Cassie, what are you thinking?”

            Cass looked down at her shirt. It was a normal t-shirt. The type you’d buy off the rack anywhere. Well, at any store that sold League memorabilia because right on the front of the emerald green shirt was the logo of Green Arrow. 

            “I’m supporting Connor,” she said. It wasn’t a lie. She was pretty good friends with the archer after they had first teamed up awhile back. He was the one who had given her the shirt in the first place. Given that she was going to a League themed party, it only seemed fitting. It wasn’t like she could wear the Bat. It wouldn’t exactly be subtle. 

            “You’re giving Oliver fodder to drive us nuts for years,” Barbara said. She wheeled forward so she was a foot in front of Cassandra. “Listen Cass. Tim has most of the League shirts upstairs in his room. Just put on something for Diana or Clark and it’ll be fine.”

            It would be. But that would mean losing this fight and Cassandra Cain? She didn’t lose. Instead, the young women leapt forward, grabbing the wheels of Barbara’s wheelchair to flip over her head. The movement caught both of her parents by surprise, and she made it to the door long before either of them could react.

            “Be back later. Love you.” She vanished out the front door. Bruce and Barbara watched the space where she’d been with quiet disbelief.

            “Can we even ground a 20 year old?” Bruce said. Barbara grinned.

            “Not with that attitude.”


	7. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: Dick got the idea for a red-and-black Nightwing suit from Tim. Well, sort of.  
> It was the Tim Drake of Earth-27. He was dropped on New Earth by some magical misfire that Dick never did figure out. The poor kid was injured so badly that he could hardly stand up, and Dick helped him back to a safe house but he didn't make it.

He looked so much like Tim it was eerie.

          He had the same eyes, the same scar on his neck where Jason got him a few years back. He had the same smile when Dick told a horrible joke, the same laugh even if it’s weak. He had almost the same hair, this Tim had cut his short, but the color was exactly the same. The only thing that was different as far as he could tell was that this Tim was missing part of his ear, the left one, the same one where his Tim had a light scar.

            That and the massive amount of internal and external injuries, but Dick was trying not to focus on that.

             He had tried to call the others, anyone really, for help, but none of his devices worked in the blast that brought his, no not his, someone’s baby brother here. He had managed to get them to a safe house, to wire Tim up to at least three devices, but there was no chance he could leave him in this state. Even though Dick had tried so hard, this Tim was still coughing up blood, his internal organs shutting down one by one.

             “He got you,” Tim said, gripping at Dick’s wrist. “Shot you in the-“ He coughed again, more blood coming up. Dick lifted the bucket to help catch it all. “ I couldn’t-not in time-“

            “It’s okay, Timmy,” Dick said, stroking his hair. His right hand was shaking. “You’re going to be alright.”

            Tim grinned, his teeth coated in blood, but it was still a grin. “You’re the same shit liar my Dick was.”

            Dick laughed. “I’m working on it.”

            It went on for a few hours, Dick comforting the boy he knew so well yet had never met, this Tim dying slowly and painfully.  Dick attempted to leave once, to try to get anyone, hell he called Superman’s name, but the effort yielded little results. So they talked. This Tim had never lost his Father, but had been rejected by him after the ‘Robin incident’ Bruce taking him in. This Tim had lost Cassie and Conner, but not Bart. This Tim had lost Bruce, not to time, but to a bullet and an explosion. This Tim got along with Damian, cared for the kid like a little brother (not that his Tim didn’t, but his Tim would never admit it). This Tim was still dating Steph, both of them keeping the Batgirl and Robin romance alive. This Tim had followed Dick into a battle involving an odd ripple in the universe, this Tim had seen Dick get his brains bashed in, this Tim had been blown to another world through an explosion that left him broken and bleeding.

             Mostly, this Tim was dying.

            “Hey Timbo, wake up,” Dick said as Tim let out a harsh breath. He had gotten the coms working, just in time to call Bruce and tell him to get the hell over here. “You’re alright, little brother. We’ll patch you up and you can meet my Tim. It’ll be great just like a-“ He cut off noticing Tim’s chest was no longer rising and falling, his lips blue. The basic stuff he had hooked him up to told the whole story; this Tim wasn’t coming back.

             Bruce came a minute later (the look on the man’s face as he shouted Tim’s name, thinking this was his son, his boy, his failure would be imprinted in Dick’s nightmares to come). They buried him in the same area Jason had been buried, his costume going with him. Bruce kept the mask, a reminder Dick supposed. They didn’t tell the others, the only sign something was different was a bone crushing hug the next time Dick saw Tim (according to Tim, Bruce had given him one too after finding him making out with a possible criminal, and really was he going nuts or what and Dick why are you looking at me like that?). But that didn’t stop the nightmares, the memory of a broken boy in red. So he decided to make a reminder of his own.

            “Why’d you get rid of the blue?” Tim asked, passing by as Dick looked at his new costume. The bright red on the front was the same shade as Tim’s uniform. Dick smiled, sadly.

             “Just to remember something, that’s all.”


	8. Welcome to the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harper, meet Dick. Dick, meet Harper.

“Please put me down. It’s just a sprained ankle,” Harper slurred, trying to push herself out of Nightwing’s arms. This was embarrassing. Really embarrassing. Cullen never letting it go embarrassing. Her push didn’t even bother Nightwing, who lightly moved her hands away.

“Yep. A sprained ankle, a concussion and a sedative dart to the back. You’re fine.”

“Sassy,” Harper muttered. She knew Nightwing was, she’d been told by the entire gang that he was, but it still caught her by surprise. He’d worn the cowl once, after all. Sass and Batman didn’t really fit at all.

“You know,” Nightwing said, walking through the building at a slow pace. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bluebird. I’ve heard quite a bit.”

A bit? About how bad she was at this? How she almost fried herself with her own suit once? How her right hook always went too far left? She let the shame sink in for a few minutes before replying. “Like what?”

“That you’re quite talented for such a rookie. That you’re really good at Twister. That you broke into Red Robin’s hide out-” Harper chuckled at that memory. Man, what a time that was. “Black Bat loves you. I’m pretty sure she’s on a quest to get Bats to adopt you and your brother. She says it’s lonely being the only daughter.”

That was a surprise. A flattering surprise but a surprise. “I have a Dad.”

“To Cass, that’s not an issue.” Of course it wouldn’t be. “Personally, I don’t think you should be subjected to Wayne family dinners. Damian throws his forks when he gets mad.”

“Huh.” Dick set her on the ground near a banister to keep her hidden. She tried to picture herself as a Wayne, her and Cullen, both in fancy outfits at fancy galas. Bruce’s hand on both their shoulders. It didn’t seem to fit.  

She should have been thankful. From the stories she’d heard, Bruce wasn’t exactly father of the year. But she couldn’t help but be a little wistful at the idea of relying on someone other than herself. To have family outside of her baby brother. People to protect her so she didn’t always have to.

“Stay here. I’ll come back to get you later.” She thought he was going to leave right away, but Nightwing reached into his back pocket and held out a batterang. He placed it in Harper’s palm.

“Welcome to the family, little sister.”

He was gone before she could reply. 


	9. Crash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You hit me with your car!"

It there was an upside to all of this, it was that Bruce at least had the sense to be embarrassed.

Tim didn’t remember much of the fight itself. He remembered Killer Croc running towards him, the sound of the Batmobile engine revving up, and a roar in his ears. A case gone wrong from what little details he could remember. A case gone really wrong, given that Bruce was  _forced to hit him with his car_.

“I had to get you out of the way. Croc was going to crush you,” Bruce said, wrapping up an impressive scrape on Tim’s arm. They were in the Batcave now, hours after patrol, though Tim didn’t remember getting there. Concussions did that. Most of the gang was still out on their own patrol and Alfred had taken Julia out to dinner for her birthday so the place was cleared out. It was weird, being in the Batcave with just Bruce again. It was like they were back in the old days, when he was just a nerdy kid trying to do some good while navigating the complexities of a grieving father.

He didn’t miss those days but he missed the kid he used to be.

“So you hit me with the Batmobile.” Tim flexed his wrist which was currently in a black wrist guard. He’d gotten a nasty sprain trying to break his fall. He was just lucky it wasn’t broken.

“If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” Bruce got up and walked over to his desk, reaching for something in one of the bottom drawer.  “I made sure to use the least amount of force possible.”

Tim had gotten better at reading Bruce-isms over the years, but he wasn’t sure if Bruce mean ‘I was sorry for having to hit you” or “stop whining.” Maybe it was a bit of both. 

“Catch.” Bruce threw something in his direction, and Tim managed to catch it with his good hand. It was a bright orange soda can. He stared down at it with mild surprise.

“Is this Orange Shocker?” Tim hadn’t seen one of these since his Freshman year in high school. They’d gone off the market for the most part, due to low sales. Tim had been kind of upset about it at the time, he lived off the things for their high caffeine content, but he’d quickly forgotten about the drinks given his hectic life. “I thought these were almost impossible to find.”

“They sell them in Central still. I got Queen to send me a pack when I figured out we were out.”

Tim looked at Bruce. Really looked at him. Since Bruce got sent back in time, he’d felt a little distant from his father. It wasn’t because they wanted to grow apart. They were just both too busy. Bruce had the league, Batman inc, and Damian to worry about. Tim had his own issues. Tim had assumed the days of them being crime fighting partners had passed. 

Maybe he’d spoken too soon.

Tim cracked open the lid and took a sip of the drink. It tasted just like Tim remembered; fruity and saturated with sugar. The dream. He could see Bruce watching him out of the corner of his eye. Tim swished around the drink in his mouth before swallowed it.

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook for hitting me with the car,” he said voice light.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”


End file.
